Not A Parallel Case

It was well along in the evening before paterfamilias arrived home, says the Detroit Tribune, and he had barely settled himself in his big chair when little Freddie climbed into his lap and fondly rested his long yelloweurls upon the paternal breast. "Papa," lisped the boy, "teil me that story about George Washington again." Papa was visibly delighted. With gentle solemnity he repeated the good oíd tale of the veracity of the nation's father. "George's stern parent," papa related, with his cheek lovingly against that of his off spring, "was greatly moved at the evidence of the boy's truthfulness, and with tears in his eyes f orgave the sin of cutting the cherry tree." Freddie was deeply impressed. "Was that right for his papa to do?" he faltered, toying with a button on bis coat. "Most assuredly it was right." "Papa." "Yes, Freddie." "Would - would you do that, too, papa, if- if- if Mamie should cut a cherry tree?" Papa had not a vestige of doubt that he would do just as did the father of George Washington under similar circumstances. "But Mamie hasn't been cutting cherry trees, has she, Freddie?" cooed the parent, straining the beautiful child to his breast. Freddie grew very thoxightful and was silent for a long time. "Papa," he faltered, at last. "My boy." . The innocent, infantile face displayed evidence of agitation. "Papa," Freddie exclaimed, as if under sudden impulse, "the bronze clock in the drawing-room is smashed in."